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 A blog documenting my writing journey |
| I hope this is entertaining... :) |
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| A Christmas poem ostensibly about rock climbing? Yep... My eyes rise high, His face my wall, a craggy visage, rough, timeworn. My head, it spins, and stomach falls. Should I attempt this Christmas morn? My harness checked and rope well-knotted, I mount the holds, small fingers curling By pleasure of ascent besotted, I grin, delighted, footing sterling. Now high above the distant ground, I’m breathing hard, my legs are quaking. I cast a nervous glance far down to massiveness of challenge waking. But still I reach above my head and dare to go where I am lead. Form: English sonnet Meter: Iambic tetrameter (not pentameter) |
| Beneath the twinkling lights aglow, beneath the wreaths and mistletoe, beneath the man in red-white suit, beneath the presents, cake of fruit, beneath the stockings on the mantle, beneath the lighted Advent candle, a humble birth of baby boy, a gift of hope, redemptive joy. |
| Fear Frightened minds always evade that which linger in the shade. Darkest smiles will I adopt, eager to see gazes drop. Fearing what they cannot place, they’ll never see my truest face. Prickling neck, they can perceive, but not this tangled web I weave. Hip Hop Young ones belt out music’s fringe, elders’ shoulders tense, they cringe. Awful racket clangs in ears, lyrics stoke their darkest fears. Suddenly idea strikes, they choose a tune the children like. Bursting into Christmas songs, kids just shrug, then sing along. |
...Ray, I expanded my Express It in Eight poem to be a little longer for the Shadows and Light contest.
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I joined the Poet's Place, and I'm still greedily lapping up all the fun poems and wealth of advice over in that forum. This week's form is the alouette, a French poetry form that's rather involved. (Why are the French forms so difficult?!) Unfortunately, I have a feeling this one will make Ray Scrivener   throw up a little in his mouth.  Christmas Commerce Twinkle, snowy lights, bare trees glimmer bright, reveal rivers of down coats. Patter, footsteps, thrum, like drummer boy’s pum, under carols’ airy notes. Misty, spectral puffs, framed by fuzzed earmuffs, frosts fog on toy shop windows. Billows of warm air result in murmured prayer as revolving doors spin, close. Glowing gazes explore, roam throughout the store, come to rest on perfect gifts. Imagine glad face, a loved one’s embrace, this symbol of care uplifts. Alouette 6 lines per stanza 2+ stanzas Syllables: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 Rhyme: a, a, b, c, c, b Generally accented on third syllable of each line |
| The prompt in Express It in Eight today was a song. I LOVE music prompts. This one made me think of surfing... :) My gaze brushes the edges of distant surf, inklings of coming joy curl dark corners of licked lips. Eyes exhilarate as soft velcro chafes excited ankles. Starting forward, tight fingers grip smooth, rounded board. Reassuring chill of briny water splashes churning shins, incoming waves slap high fives against tanned hips. Leaning forward, I kerplunk into cool pleasure. Swimming toward curls in the sea, all is right. |
| A fellow Nano-er lamented some things about the whole Nano experience. I think my experience was better, overall, than his may have been, but I did experience some of the same challenges. I'm usually an insatiable writer. I write nearly every day and only fail to do so when I simply don't have the time. Any day on which I have free time pretty much guarantees that I'll churn out a poem or at least part of a story. I did feel "written out" after Nano in some ways, but in my experience, that was more a function of being tired of writing one particular story. When I finished Nano, I immediate popped out a few poems and short stories. While the prepping for Nano helped quite a bit, once I began writing, my outline went right out the window, and my story took on a life of its own. I was able to salvage some of the prep later on, but after the first three chapters, I veered off the outline pretty substantially. I think I'm lucky as far as how it turned out, though. While some chapters were rushed and the prose needs some work, much of what I wrote is a good framework for a story that I'm going to refine and self-publish. I actually prefer to write in a hurry. If I don't ride the initial wave of momentum, I find that I lose interest in the story over time and move on to something new. Short stories are far easier for me than novels for that reason. It's tough for me to keep my attention on a single story for as long as it takes to write a proper novel. |
| Weathered mien wrinkles time-worn crinkles at corners of eyes and lips. One lifetime of joy, spirit of boy, dancing with sway of hips. Pale forehead I kiss, he will be missed. |
Um, this SCREAMS story is pretty intense. Not for the faint of heart. Sorry?
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Can't wait to see where these pirate adventures lead!